Welcome to Mortrak
The Eisenreich Colonial Empire was a nation that actively promoted slavery. Unlike the Theodor Holy Empire, which operated by binding serfs to its territories, the Eisenreich incorporated war captives from the front lines and citizens from conquered lands as slaves, exploiting them ruthlessly.
Serfdom and slavery. They might seem like similar systems of subjugation at first glance. But the differences far outweighed the similarities.
Serfs are bound to the estate but not threatened with life and death. Slaves, on the other hand, are bound to their owner as expendable tools stripped of the freedom to survive. Serfs can own a portion of their harvest, but slaves are officially prohibited from possessing any property.
Even Valtenstein County, little more than a rural backwater of the Holy Empire, managed countless serfs. Running a manor required their labor, so they enforced strict serfdom to maintain control.
Slavery is barbaric and savage? I'd never held such prejudices. As the son of Valtenstein County, which had exploited countless serfs, I could proudly say I'd lived comfortably, if not richly. There could be no more hypocritical statement than some young master declaring, "Slavery is barbaric and savage! Let's switch to serfdom and grant them minimal freedoms!"
"I thought we'd be heading to the colonial empire's capital."
"It was a sudden decision from the War Council. We were originally supposed to go to Balt, the capital... but we received orders to wait in the slave city."
"Slave city? You're not planning to sell me off as a slave, are you? If you're dropping me into slavery, at least sell me to a beautiful noblewoman—I'd appreciate that."
"Don't jump to conclusions. Right now, you're a quasi-noble."
After four days of interrogation, we'd received notice to head to the slave city. The carriage was equipped with comfortable seats, pulled by two sturdy horses in sleek black harnesses, flying a black flag that proclaimed the protection of the colonial empire. Whenever we hit the main road, carriages parted like the Red Sea, yielding the way.
Thanks to the colonial empire's boundless leniency toward defectors, we arrived at the slave city far earlier than the dark elf beauty had predicted.
"We're almost at Mortrak."
"Already?"
Bellesra, seated across from me, spoke up. I turned my head and peered out the window.
"Young, sturdy male slaves captured from the Savanon Kingdom! Send 'em to the mines or wall repairs—they'll deliver top-tier labor!"
"Slaves from the Polabor Duchy, which resisted our colonial empire and fell! They're scrawny and weak for hard labor... but fluent in languages and sharp with numbers. They'll surely grow your family's wealth!"
Mortrak, the slave city. It was a massive furnace handling not just the sale and distribution of the countless slaves plundered by the Eisenreich Colonial Empire, but also their rental and disposal.
Shouts from merchants hawking their wares. Groans from slaves chained and despairing over their fates. Cries from citizens haggling over young, robust slaves. The place buzzed with explosive vitality and heat.
Mortrak traded slaves in markets packed densely, as if it were the most natural routine. For the colonial empire's citizens, slavery was the foundation providing abundant labor.
"...Colosseum? The gladiator arena?"
"You know of the colonial empire's Colosseum, then. You can watch the gladiators fight to the death firsthand."
The circular arena at the heart of the slave city was undoubtedly the Colosseum. As soon as she finished speaking, Bellesra shrugged and explained the fierce duels held there.
Gladiator battles. Matches with monsters and beasts. Even plays featuring young, beautiful men and women. The Colosseum's spectacles enjoyed fervent popularity and cheers from the empire's citizens.
I could gauge its popularity from the dark elf beauty's excited rant. She spoke like it was her hometown, her enthusiastic delivery evoking a native.
With her lush purple hair cascading down, the dark elf listed Mortrak's architecture, starting with the Colosseum, explaining the city in detail. For a spy unit vice-captain who needed a cool demeanor, she was far too passionate.
"Welcome to Mortrak, Lord Valtenstein."
The carriage provided by the colonial empire pulled up to some tycoon's mansion. Towering marble walls. The main and annex buildings sprawling inside. And some twenty other specie servants arranged around a red carpet. The idiom gold flows like dirt came to mind—wealth squandered like heaps of soil.
The sight of other specie maids in varied monochrome uniforms deployed like luxuries spoke volumes of opulence.
"Ahem! I am Korba Ugashur, head of the Black Iron Chain Merchant Company and representative of the Mortrak Merchant Guild. As a loyal subject of the slave city, obedient to the War Council's absolute command, I shall host Lord Valtenstein without the slightest shortcoming!"
"War Council...? Well, pleased to meet you."
The matriarch of the slave city. 24th head of the Black Iron Chain Merchant Company. Representative of the Mortrak Merchant Guild. Clearly the city's leading magnate and power broker.
The old woman, adorned head to toe in gaudy jewelry, greeted me with the deference due a feudal lord. She trembled like a cat crossing thin ice, proving the War Council's absolute authority—even the city's top power feared them.
"Entertain the War Council's honored guest with utmost splendor. No mistakes allowed."
"Understood, Matriarch."
Clap. The old woman clapped, signaling. Golden-haired other specie beauties approached with graceful steps.
Was such luxurious treatment really okay for me? It was starting to feel eerie. Maybe they'd present a bill, nitpick some excuse, or sell me off to a shady factory owner... While doubting the Eisenreich Colonial Empire's generous hospitality, I didn't refuse the service from the beautiful other specie women.
Bellesra, who had arrived with me at the slave city, looked utterly dumbfounded at the sight of me surrounded by beauties.
"Lately, Mortrak's merchant heads have been rushing in and out looking frantic... Has something happened in Mortrak?"
"I should have told you earlier... The Executor of the Frozen Lands is coming to visit."
"Executor of the Frozen Lands? Fancy title."
"Descendant of one of the ten founding families that built the colonial empire, leader of the War Council. Also a war hero who toppled countless nations across the continent."
I lounged on a sunbed for basking, sipping orange juice handed over by a other specie maid. Gazing at the merchant heads scurrying about, I asked Bellesra.
The Executor of the Frozen Lands. Leonora Elua Edelgard. Descendant of a founding contributor. Independent military commander and war hero. Great lord ruling the vast north blanketed in snow and ice. Truly, the supreme being chosen by the war god the colonial empire revered.
Like a battalion commander going all-out for a brigade commander's visit? Through Bellesra's explanation, I understood the desperation gripping Mortrak's merchant heads.
"What's the purpose of such a chosen hero gracing the slave city in person? Not planning to gloat by comparing herself to slaves chained and exploited like tools, I hope."
"Only one reason to visit Mortrak. To buy slaves. The Executor of the Frozen Lands periodically comes here and purchases hundreds."
"Hundreds? Aren't slaves expensive? Especially the young, sturdy ones."
"The Frozen Lands always lacks labor."
Slaves shipped to the Frozen Lands were all manumitted, becoming freemen. Because the empire's northernmost frontier was hell—murderous blizzards and swarming monsters amid constant starvation.
Don't live as slaves. Die as freemen. Being sent north didn't mean certain death. Just... low survival odds. Like finding a hundred needles in a vast desert.
Typically, they'd endure razor-sharp blizzards to grow turnips or get thrown into magic crystal mines teeming with monsters. The Executor ruling that frozen hell had no choice but to keep injecting fresh labor.
Slaves headed to the Frozen Lands... Treated like Soviet political prisoners shipped to Siberia. Poor bastards.
I slurped my orange juice through a straw, sending sincere pity and sympathy to those doomed slaves.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"...Nothing. I'll tell you tomorrow."
The dark elf beauty, mid-explanation, stared at me with eyes full of pity. Even when I asked why, she wouldn't answer.